


Watch the Bright Stars

by JustGettingBy



Series: Avatar 5 + 1 Things [3]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Backstory, Canon Compliant, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Growing Up, I am warning you right now that the end is going to be sad, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24709996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustGettingBy/pseuds/JustGettingBy
Summary: The Palace can be a lonely place, especially for a kid. Luckily for Zuko he's got his older cousin around to show him the ropes.ORThe five things Zuko admires in Lu Ten and the one thing he doesn't.
Relationships: Lu Ten & Zuko
Series: Avatar 5 + 1 Things [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1786810
Comments: 56
Kudos: 658





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Walt Whitman's "On the Beach at Night Alone"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From what I can tell, Lu Ten is about ten or eleven years older than Zuko, so for the sake of this fic I'm splitting the difference and pretending he's ten and a half years old than Zuko.
> 
> As always, I do my own proofreading (hint: I’m not good at it) so let me know if I missed anything.

i. Diplomacy 

Zuko stands at attention and looks up at Lu Ten. He seems impossibly tall—Lu Ten’s taller than Uncle and almost as tall as Father—and his right cheek has a small nick from his razor. Lu Ten shaves now. He told Zuko that last week. 

Lu Ten paces, his hands bundelled behind his back and his chin forward, the way that Zuko’s seen his grandfather’s generals do. “You understand that this mission is of the utmost importance,” Lu Ten says, his voice level and serious. “Whatever happens, failure is not an option.”

Zuko nods. Lu Ten’s right, of course. Whatever happens, they can’t afford to lose right now. 

Lu Ten pauses. He taps on his chin as he looks down at Zuko. “We need a plan that’s airtight, then. Do you have any ideas?”

“Blast in,” Zuko says. He punches the air, the way he would if he could actually bend fire. Lu Ten told him to be patient about that—he was only slightly younger than Zuko’s when he started to make a flame. Besides, Zuko is still five. Lu Ten says most firebenders start when they’re six.

“Hmm, that’s a good idea, buddy, but I’m not sure if it’s right for this mission, if you feel me.”

Zuko doesn’t, but he nods along anyway. Isn’t fire always the solution? When he gets his flame, Zuko will use it for absolutely everything he can. He can’t imagine being able to firebend and choosing not to use it. 

“As the future Fire Lord,” Lu Ten says, “I have to be well versed in every sort of tactic.” Zuko can tell he’s puffing his chest up, but he ignores it. Lu Ten does this, sometimes. 

“It’s like Father says: when one only has a hammer, they see each problem as a nail.”

Zuko scratches his ear. “Um, I’m not sure I know what that means.”

Lu Ten gives him a knowing smile. “It means, Zuko, that you need to get creative sometimes. Why do you think I practice with my broadsword? You have to be ready for any eventuality.” 

Zuko nods. “Any eventuality,” he parrots. 

“For the mission today, I think we need to use stealth. I’ll go in first and distract Eiji. On my cue, you follow. Stay low and out of sigh. Get the goods and then get out. Understood?”

Zuko salutes Lu Ten. “Understood.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

Lu Ten walks forward with ease. If he’s nervous about their mission, he’s not showing any signs of it. As he walks, his dark robes with red trim swish behind him. 

When they reach the end of the hall, Lu Ten pauses in front of the door and gives Zuko a small nod.

Zuko mouths back  _ good luck _ .

Lu Ten reaches forward and pushes open the metal door and Zuko moves into position. Through the keyhole, he watches Lu Ten’s back. 

“Chef Eiji!” Lu Ten says. 

Though his vision is partially blocked, Zuko can make out a man in a white apron snap into a bow. “Prince Lu Ten,” he says. “I didn’t know you were coming by.”

“After the wonderful feast last night, I just had to stop by and pay my compliments. What was in that sauce you used on the roast tunahen? It was, without a doubt, the best meal I’ve had in my life.”

And, with that, Lu Ten drops his finger. 

Zuko cracks open the door, only moving it just far enough for him to slip in. In the background, he can hear Chef Eiji talking about the possibilities of using the same sauce for rice. It’s amazing, Zuko thinks, how easily Lu Ten can strike up a conversation with anyone, be it nobles or staff. He doesn’t think Lu Ten has spent a single day in the palace without charming someone. The way he sways the opinions of ministers and the loyalty of staff. It’s almost effortless.

Zuko pushes the distractions out of his mind and looks for their prize: the freshly made sakura mochi. The Dessert for grandfather’s dinner with the visiting governors from the Earth Kingdom. The dinner which Lu Ten and Zuko are very much not invited to, despite the fact the rest of their family will be there (well, not including Azula. She’s still with the nanny). They’ll probably be served mushy broccoli and rice and  _ maybe  _ moon peaches. But no pastries. 

So Zuko empties a good dozen sakura mochi into his bag. Carefully, he makes his way back out of the kitchen. He scarcely makes a sound. When he gets back through the door, he closes it behind him and looks through the keyhole once again. 

After another minute listening to Lu Ten pretend to care (or maybe he really did care—Lu Ten had a way of bringing out the joy in others) about the best ratio of water to rice for the perfect sticky texture, Lu Ten gives Chef Eiji a polite nod. “I’m afraid I have business to attend to, but please know that your cooking and baking is always much appreciated.”

Zuko doesn’t miss the double meaning in Lu Ten’s words. The bag at his side hangs heavy with the pastries. 

“I’m honoured, Your Highness,” says Chef Eiji. “And next time, you’re more than welcome to ask if you and Prince Zuko would like some extra pastries. There are plenty to go around.”

Zuko’s breath catches in his throat. They’ve been made. 

Lu Ten, on the other hand, doesn’t show any sign of hesitation. “Thank you,” he says simply and walks out of the kitchen. 

In the hall, he turns to Zuko. “That went well.” He’s not being sarcastic—he’s beaming. 

“How? We got caught!” Zuko throws his arms to his side in frustration. 

Lu Ten reaches for Zuko’s bag and pulls out a sakura mochi. His face splits into a wide grin. “Zuko—Eiji invited us back for pastries whenever we feel like it.” He bites into the light pink dessert. “I’d say our mission was a stunning success.”

  
ii. Firebending 

Lu Ten is probably the best firebender in the world, Zuko thinks. He tries to watch him train as much as he can (which isn’t often, given how much training his father expects him to do and how his mother claims his free time to take him on strolls around the gardens). Still, Zuko sneaks away as much as he can. Once, Azula even came with him. After a few minutes, she yawned over dramatically. 

“This is boring,” she told Zuko. “What’s the point in watching this if we’re not going to try anything?”

“It’s not boring,” Zuko hissed back. How could she think that? How could anyone watch Lu Ten find his root, punch his arm, and send fire streaming across the arena and call it boring?

It’s the most wonderful thing Zuko’s ever seen. Sure, he’s trained by masters, but they always refuse to show him anything more than the basics. The few times he’s spied the older students’ practice, they never seem to have the same passion as Lu Ten. They run through the movements, but they’re too stiff and mechanical and look nothing like Lu Ten with his steeled focus and powerful kicks. 

Zuko knows that his father, his uncle, and his grandfather are all masters too, but he’s rarely seen them firebend for anything more than show. And Mom won't let him into the Agni Kai's. And besides, the rest of the  palace isn’t a place for fighting. Their ferocity on the battlefield stays on the field.

But Lu Ten? He practices with a spark in his eyes. He refuses to go down, even when hit. It’s amazing. Zuko goes back and watches from the far edge of the arena whenever he can, even if Azula doesn’t come with him. 

He knows he’ll hurt himself if he actually attempts any of the moves, but that doesn’t stop him from running through the motions when he’s alone in his room at night. When his trainers finally move him up, Zuko will be ready. He can’t wait to surprise them with his precision. 

A few nights later, at dinner, Zuko’s eating his rice in silence, as usual, when he hears his father clear his throat. 

“So Zuko,” Father says, his tone low and even. “I hear you’ve been watching your cousin train.”

Zuko swallows the lump of rice in his mouth. “Yes, Father. When I can.”

“Hmm.” Father bundles his hands. 

Zuko wants to press on—ask him why he cares. He doesn’t. It’s been drilled into his head for long enough that he’s never to speak unless he’s spoken to. 

“I want this to end.”

“But—”

His father raises his hand in dismissal. “Don’t argue. There’s no use watching someone who has nearly mastered the element when you’re barely competent at the basics. What have you completed? Four forms?” 

Zuko feels the heat rise in his cheeks. He feels Azula’s mocking gaze bore into him from across the table. His mother lays a gentle hand on his wrist to placate him before he responds. “I understand, Father.” Zuko shovels more rice into his mouth and doesn’t look back up. 

* * *

Three weeks later, Zuko’s curiosity outweighs his desire to please his father. He sneaks back into the training arena a quarter of an hour before Lu Ten is due to start training. He might not be able to stand in the open anymore, but he’s small enough that there are many places he can tuck himself away in and watch the practice without being seen. Today, Zuko crawls underneath the spectator stand. The ground is a bit dusty, but he doesn’t mind. He tucks his knees into his chest. Through the gap in the stands, he has a fairly good view of the whole arena, and it’s unlikely anyone will see him if he stays in the shadows. 

Sure enough, Lu Ten and a red-clad master make their way into the arena. 

The practice goes like any other. Lu Ten moves with ferocity and sends dazzling blazes across the room. His movements are full of rooted power but are somehow fluid at the same time. When he twists his arms and rolls, he moves so fast that Zuko can barely follow the movement. How could anyone hope to beat him? 

For the rest of the hour, Zuko stays perfectly still. He doesn’t move a muscle—he only stares at Lu Ten. It would be nice to have power like that. Zuko can hardly imagine he ever will be like Lu Ten, kicking and striking with passion and ease. 

When the lesson ends, Lu Ten and the master bow to each other. Zuko can’t hear what they’re saying, but a small laugh reaches his ears. Even though Lu Ten’s hair is out of place and his face looks like it’s covered in a layer of sweat, he’s still smiling and chatting with the master as if they’re friends. 

Zuko wonders what that’s like. His lessons always end with him choking back tears and frustration. 

As the two reach the door, Lu Ten looks back over his shoulder. His eyes linger on the bleachers for a second too long. Zuko brings down his chin and makes himself small—he’s gotten good at that—and holds his breath. 

But Lu Ten’s gaze pulls away and he turns back to the firebending master. 

Zuko exhales and wipes his forehead. He hadn’t realized he’d been sweating too. 

* * *

Now that he has to hide if he wants to watch Lu Ten train, he hardly gets to go. He’s lucky if he sneaks in every other week and half the time the slats of the bleachers block his view. 

Zuko goes all the same. 

When he trains in his own practices, he pictures Lu Ten’s blazing torrents of fire. 

Zuko struggles to hold any flame bigger than candlelight. 

“Again,” Master Ito says. 

Zuko grits his teeth and repeats. Like he always does. 

* * *

He goes to watch Lu Tun later that day and tries not to think about how badly his own lesson went. He’ll get the hang of it one day. He  _ has to. _

When Lu Ten and his master enter, Zuko lets himself get lost in Lu Ten’s fluid movement. It’s like watching a crackling fire—strangely hypnotic. It’s too complicated for Zuko to attempt on his own, but he could at least practice the broad movements in his room tonight. That’s better than nothing, he figures. 

When the practice ends, Lu Ten and the master bow to each other, as always. This time, they’re closer, and Zuko can make out what they’re saying. 

“I’m going to hang back and practice a bit more,” Lu Ten says.

The master raises a bushy eyebrow. “You’ve done well today. Don’t overtrain.”

“I won’t, I won’t. I promise. I just want to get the footwork right at the end.”

“Very well. Just remember to give yourself a break—there’s a fine line between discipline and over-ambition.” 

Zuko wishes Master Ito had the same attitude at this one. He only lets up on training when Zuko’s at his end. 

But Lu Ten’s master gives a shallow bow and leaves. Lu Ten stands still for a moment, hands on his hips and eyes on the door. 

“You can come out, Zuko,” Lu Ten says. “I know you’re here.”

Zuko freezes. His blood pounds in his ears and his skin feels cold. How could Lu Ten know? Zuko had been so careful. For a second, he debates if he should stay still and pretend he’s not here. 

“I can crawl under the bleachers if you’d like. Even if I get stuck. I just want to talk.”

Zuko swallows and untangles himself from the wooden slats that make up the base of the seating. He crawls back out, brushes his hands on his tunic, and stares up at Lu Ten. “Please don’t tell my father,” Zuko whispers. His eyes prickle and he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip.

“Your dad? Why would I tell him?” Lu Ten sits down on the lowest level of the seats. This way, Zuko is looking at Lu Ten straight on, instead of having to look up.

“He told me not to come,” Zuko says. 

“Is that why you’ve been hiding? Instead of watching from the wall?”

Zuko nods. If he tries to say anything, he’s not sure what will come out. 

“And here I thought you’d gotten sick of watching me train,” Lu Ten says. 

“No! I’d never!”

Lu Ten ruffles Zuko’s hair out of place. “Relax, Zuko. I’m just joking.” He brings his hand back down and pulls his mouth into a serious sort of straight line. “And I’d never say anything to your father, you know that, right? I never even mentioned you would stop in in the first place.”

Zuko nods glumly. He believes Lu Ten, but he can’t shake the fear of being found out. “I can’t come back though, can I?”

Lu Ten sighs. “No. Probably not.” 

Zuko slumps forward, defeated. “It’s alright,” he says, even though he feels pretty far from alright. 

Lu Ten claps Zuko’s shoulder. “Sorry, buddy. I’ll try to think of something.”

Zuko nods, but he doesn’t know how he will. If there’s one thing Zuko knows, it’s that his father’s word is final. 

* * *

Zuko trains in a courtyard instead of the arena. He hates it. By the end of each session, he’s always soaked in sweat and more than once he’s gotten light-headed and dizzy from the sweltering heat. Master Ito was the one to suggest training under the sun to improve Zuko’s strength and his father agreed to the arrangement without question. 

What Zuko hates about it most of all is that everyone can see him. Every random noble or servant or merchant has a full view of his practice. Anyone walking down the corridor can turn to see him struggle to run through a basic kata. Once, when he was practicing, Zuko tripped over his own feet. His face met the flagstones of the courtyard and, when he glanced up, a group of his grandfather’s advisors were looking down their noses at him. Zuko tries not to think about that. His face warms through his ears whenever he does. 

Worst of all, training out in the open means his father tends to drop by whenever he feels like it. Zuko never knows when he’ll turn around and see his father standing by a column, his hands folded in front of him and a deep frown etched across his face. 

“Again,” Master Ito says. Zuko pushes his thoughts down and focuses on the movement. A simple strike. He grunts and tries to push his arm forward with as much power as he can muster. Only a small, weak flame flickers out and immediately dies again. 

Master Ito frowns. “Prince Zuko, if you’re not going to try, I can’t help you.”

“I am trying,” Zuko says. “It’s not working.” He throws his arms to his side in frustration. 

Master Ito shakes his head. “I have other business to attend to this afternoon. Tomorrow, I expect you to be able to hold the flame steady for at least three seconds.”

When Master Ito walks away, Zuko grunts and tries again. 

And again. 

And again. 

“Urrgh!” He aims a kick at a stray pebble and sends it flying across the flagstones No matter what he does, he can’t get it right. It’s difficult enough to  _ make _ a flame, let alone hold it for three whole seconds. 

“What did that pebble ever do to you?”

Zuko looks up with a start. “Lu Ten!” In front of him, leaning against a column, stands his cousin. As always, he looks calm and collected and exactly like the kind of person Zuko wishes he could be. 

Zuko frowns, though. “My father said—”

“Your father said you couldn’t watch my practice,” Lu Ten says. “Did he say anything about me watching yours?”

No, Zuko thinks, Father didn’t. He grins widely. “No.”

“Can I help, then? I’m still a few forms away from being a master, but I do know a thing or two.”

At this point, Zuko will try anything. “Sure.”

Lu Ten hops down the step and comes up beside Zuko. “First, I need you to find your root.” He taps Zuko’s foot with his, and Zuko’s foot slides back a touch. “Plant those feet. Focus on the way the ground feels.”

With a nod, Zuko shuffles his stance.

“Good. Now, in the arm—” Lu Ten taps Zuko’s elbow— “you need to  _ snap _ . Quick, powerful movements.”

Zuko practices balling his hand into a fist and snapping his arm as he extends it out.

“Looking good, buddy. Now, this is the most important part—you have to feel your chi.”

Zuko grimaces. Master Ito had mentioned his ‘chi’ before in passing, but Zuko never really understood what it meant.

“Find that fire in your core,” Lu Ten says, guessing what Zuko had been worried about, “and pull it through your body, into your arms, and out through your arm. It might help if you picture yourself directing a white light while you do the move.” 

“Okay.” Zuko nods. He pulls back and starts to move—

“Wait, wait.” Lu Ten waves his hand. “Take a deep breath first. Centre yourself. Breath in. Picture the sun, flaming overhead.  _ That’s  _ what gives you power, Zuko. Feel its heat on your skin. You can do this. I know you can.”

Zuko breathes in deeply. He holds the air in his lungs and lets himself feel the heat pressing into his skin. He shifts his stance. Finds his root. On the exhale, Zuko closes his eyes and imagines a bright light exploding out of his stomach. As he steps forward, he pictures himself pulling the light from his core, through his arm—and he snaps his arm forward—and pushing it out of his first.

“Yeah! Now that’s how you firebend!” 

Zuko pries open one eye. From his extended fist, a steady stream of fire pours out. “Lu Ten!” Zuko laughs. “I’m doing it.” The flame puffs out. 

Lu Ten ruffles his hair. “That was a good ten seconds, at  _ least _ . You’re gonna be a great firebender one day.” 

“You really think so?” Zuko tries not to let too much excitement flood his voice.

“I know so.” 

III. Lightheartedness

Zuko isn’t sure when he realized that Lu Ten and Uncle have a much different relationship than he does with his father. He’s always been aware of it at some level, Zuko thinks. He remembers the snippets: days on the beach where Uncle would leave behind his paperwork to build sandcastles with him and Lu Ten; Uncle’s rolling laugh constantly echoing through the palace hallways; the way Uncle would speak fondly of Lu Ten’s progress in firebending and his top marks in school. 

The first day Zuko knows beyond a doubt that Uncle is different than Father, however, is the day that he and Lu Ten break the ancient vase. 

It’s an accident. Honestly. 

Lu Ten threw the ball first. Both of them knew they weren’t allowed to play in the halls. They had to wait until they were in the courtyard. 

But Zuko threw it back anyway.    
And then Lu Ten sent it sailing back towards Zuko. The pass was too high. The tips of Zuko’s fingers grazed the bottom of that brown rubber ball. 

And the ball met the vase. The two-hundred-year-old vase. When it hit the wood of the floor, the shatter rang throughout the hallway. Ceramic chips rained across the ground. 

Zuko bit his lip and looked back, desperate, to Lu Ten. 

Lu Ten’s face paled. “Shit,” he said. 

Zuko agreed. 

And now they’re here, staring at each other, trying to work out what to do next. 

“You boys wouldn’t be causing trouble now, would you?” says a familiar raspy voice. 

Zuko nearly jumps out of his skin. 

“Dad,” Lu Ten says. He brushes the back of his neck and ducks his head slightly. “It was an accident, honestly. It’s my fault.”

“No,” Zuko says. His head feels light and a familiar weight settles into his stomach. “It was my fault.”

Uncle pauses and taps his chin. “You two will clean this up, yes?”

They both nod and echo back Uncle’s ‘yes’.

“Good,” Uncle says. “When you’re done, why don’t you come to my apartment for tea.” 

* * *

Half an hour later, with the ceramic shards swept up, Lu Ten and Zuko are sitting in Uncle’s apartment sipping tea. 

Well, Uncle and Lu Ten are sipping tea and chatting. Zuko holds the cup in his hand and lets the heat press against his palm. He’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“You know, Lu Ten, I saw you speaking with Minister Sakai’s daughter the other day. She’s a lovely girl.”

Lu Ten’s cheeks flush. “She’s a great friend.”

“Nothing more? The gardens are a wonderful place for a walk, this time of years. The cherry trees are blossoming and it's far away from prying eyes.”

“Dad,” Lu Ten groans. “It’s not like that. Kira is my friend. Nothing more.”

Uncle closes his eyes and holds the steaming cup of tea under his chin. “If you insist, my son.” 

“You’ve been reading too many romance books,” Lu Ten says with a laugh. “You think any two people who so much as look at each other for a second too long are soulmates.”

Uncle shakes his head. “Well forgive me for being an optimist!” Uncle chuckles and the whole room shakes. 

“And how about you, Prince Zuko? Any ladies catch your eye?”

Zuko grips his cup so hard he’s afraid it may shatter. For a moment, he thought Uncle and Lu Ten had forgotten he was there.

“Because I heard from your sister that you’ve taken a liking to one of her friends—”

“Azula always lies.” Zuko frowns. 

“Always, Zuko?” Lu Ten grins at Zuko. 

Zuko could scream. How could Lu Ten sit there laughing? Joking? At any minute, Uncle is going to chew them out for breaking that vase. Uncle’s the  _ crown prince  _ for Agni’s sake. He won’t put up with any disrespect. 

“Is something the matter, Nephew?”

“No,” Zuko says, his voice shaking. He sets down his teacup but he can’t bring himself to meet Uncle’s gaze. “I’m just wondering—um, well, you know since I broke the vase—”

“It was a bit of a team effort, buddy,” Lu Ten says. 

Zuko bites his tongue. “Are we in trouble Uncle? Are you going to tell my father?” When he does look up to meet Uncle’s gaze, he sees that Uncle’s brown eyes are wide. 

“Well, you’ve cleaned up the mess you’ve made, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve learned your lesson about playing in the hallways?”

“I won’t do it again. I swear.”

Uncle shrugs. “Then I think that’s all, Prince Zuko.” He reaches for the teapot and tops up all three of their mugs. “Besides, between us, I didn’t like that old thing anyway. The pattern’s been out of style for a hundred years!”

Zuko doesn’t laugh, but he does manage a strained smile. He wonders what it’s like for Lu Ten. Does he even know how lucky he is to have Uncle? Zuko can’t help but think of how differently today could have gone if it was his father that came down that hallway instead. 


	2. Chapter 2

iv. Independence

The first thing Zuko does when he gets back from Ember Island is to seek out Lu Ten. He missed his older cousin on the beach this year—for the first time in as long as Zuko could remember, Lu Ten stayed back. With Uncle off to the war front, Lu Ten had his basic training to complete before he would go off to join the siege. 

After quickly flitting between Lu Ten’s usual hangouts (his apartments, the arena, the library, and the gardens), Zuko finally finds Lu Ten on a balcony on the second floor, his nose buried deep in a book.

“Lu Ten!”

Lu Ten looks up; his face cracks into a wide grin. “Zuko! I thought you weren’t coming back till next week.”

Zuko rushes forward and Lu Ten pulls him into a hug. “Father has work to do here.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re back, anyway.” Lu Ten stares at Zuko. “Agni, buddy. You were only gone a month. How much did you grow?” 

Zuko shrugs. His mother said he was growing like a weed, but Zuko wasn’t so sure. He was always short compared to the few other kids his age he knew. Still, he comes up higher on Lu Ten’s chest than he had when they left. 

“You’re gonna be taller than me before I know it.”

Zuko giggles. He can’t imagine ever being taller than Lu Ten.

“I wish that you could’ve come to the beach,” he says. “Azula’s no fun to play with.”

“She crush your sandcastles again?” 

“All the time.” Zuko huffs. 

“I wish I could’ve been there,” Lu Ten says with a sigh. “But I have things to do here now.”

“Still.”

“I know. I was bored out of my brain last month. You’d think with my training I’d be busy, but I still have enough free time in the evenings. And with both you and Dad gone there weren’t a lot of people to talk to.”

Zuko nods, but he doesn’t really understand. He’s used to people being around, whether it’s Lu Ten, or his parents, or even Azula and her friends. There’s scarcely a quiet moment in his life. 

It must be hard for Lu Ten, Zuko thinks, now that Uncle’s gone. Lu Ten doesn’t have any brothers or sisters. Once, when Zuko was young, he made the mistake of asking Lu Ten where his mother was. Lu Ten clamped his mouth shut and left without another word.

Later that day, when Zuko was walking through the gardens with his mother, he asked her the same question.

Her face fell and she placed her hand gently on his wrist. “Zuko, dear, Lu Ten’s mother loved him very much. I never met her, but she meant the world to Prince Iroh. When they found out they had a baby on the way, they couldn’t have been happier.”

“But where is she?” Zuko didn’t understand. “Why would she just leave!”

His mother sighed. “Sometimes, Zuko, when women have babies, things can go wrong. The night Lu Ten was born, his mother passed away.” Her voice cracked towards the end. “And she might not be around anymore, but that doesn’t mean she’s gone.”

“Oh,” Zuko said. He felt small, sitting there next to his mother, the fall winds rustling the leaves on the trees. “Will you have to go one day?” His face felt hot and his mouth dried.

She squeezed his hand. “When you love someone, they never leave you. Not really.”

Now, as Zuko sees Lu Ten differently. As always, Lu Ten is so much older and stronger and smarter than Zuko could ever hope to be. But, underneath it all, Zuko realizes Lu Ten is lonely. Even if he doesn’t show it. 

“Zuko?”

Zuko snaps back from his thoughts. “Yeah?”

“I  _ did _ get up to some exploring while you were away. You up for an adventure?”

Zuko nods. Of course, he is. He’s always up for exploring, especially when it’s with Lu Ten. 

“Good. Meet me at the palace gate an hour before sunrise tomorrow.”

“ _ Before _ sunrise? But that’s so early,” he whines. 

“It’s worth it. I promise.”

Zuko huffs. “It better be.”

“Don’t forget to pack a bag. We’re gonna need water.”

* * *

The next morning, true to his word, Zuko sneaks out of his room and meets Lu Ten at the gates. The pack on his back is too heavy; the straps dig red welts into his shoulders. 

“You ready?” Lu Ten has a pack on his back too, but he acts like the weight isn’t there. In the month Zuko’s been gone, it seems that Lu Ten has packed some new muscle on his formerly lanky frame. He probably has his training to thank for that. Zuko hopes that one day he’ll have muscles like that too—then everyone will know how brave and strong he is. 

As Lu Ten walks ahead, Zuko follows in his footsteps. They wind through the streets of Caldera City, mostly sticking away from the main routes. Even though it’s still early, there are a few people in the streets. The two princes would definitely draw a crowd. 

Finally, they reach the edge of the city, where the ground rises up to the edge of the caldera. “You in the mood for some hiking?”

Zuko nods. He shifts the weight on his back and trudges on after Lu Ten (who doesn’t even look like he’s broken a sweat). It’s still dark, but the heat of the day is quickly rising. Zuko’s neck and back are sticky with sweat and his hair is damp. “Lu Ten? How much longer?”

“We’re almost there, buddy.”

And, true to his word, after a quarter-hour they reach the crest of the old volcano. 

“Woah.” Zuko looks out toward the sea. The rising sun throws colours across the water—a pool of endless pink and orange. The clouds bend and hold the glow in their delicate fabric. Far below them, lights line the shore and a tight-knit glow marks the port. The breeze that brushes across Zuko’s face is cool and light and smells of salt and sand. 

Lu Ten chuckles. “I told you, buddy. It’s worth it.” He sets down his pack and pulls out a wrapped bundle of sticky buns. “Here,” he says, holding one out to Zuko.

Zuko takes it gratefully. He hadn’t realized his stomach was growling at him. 

“I think this is the best view in all of the Fire Nation,” Lu Ten says as he settles down on a rock. He kicks his feet up in front of him, laces his hands behind his head, and leans back. 

“Yeah,” Zuko agrees. He hasn’t seen much of the nation—not like Lu Ten has—but he can’t remember anywhere else like this. The city has wonderful gardens and striking buildings; Ember Island has tranquil black-sand beaches and dense rainforest. But nowhere looks like this. Between the distant shoreline, the crumbling edge of the old volcano, and the glow of the cities and port in the distance, Zuko thinks he must be on another planet. “How did you find it?”

Lu Ten looks out in the distance. His topknot hasn’t moved, despite the heat and exercise. “I had a lot of time to explore.”

“You must’ve.” Zuko doesn’t think he’d find a place like this even if he had a hundred years to explore. 

“With Dad gone and Grandfather—well, you know how Grandfather is—I needed something to do. And, Agni, I’m glad I came up here. I’m telling you, buddy, there’s nothing better than being free. I mean, this is just the Fire Nation! Imagine what’s out there in the rest of the world.

“Dad’s told me stories of the poles, where it’s so cold that nothing grows, even in the summer, and in the winter the sun never rises beyond a dawn glow. Not far from here there’s an old Air Temple on the  _ underside of a mountain. _ And when Dad wrote to me about Ba Sing Se, he told me it was the largest city anyone could ever imagine. From the top of the outer circle’s wall, it’s just miles and miles of city.”

It’s hard to imagine such places could exist. 

“I’m gonna see it all, someday,” Lu Ten says. It sounds like a promise to himself. 

Zuko doesn’t doubt he will. Lu Ten has never let himself be pushed around; he’s never folded in front of his father or snuck around to avoid a bunch of girls. 

As Zuko sits down next to Lu Ten and watches the sun break open the day, he wonders if he’ll see all those wonderful things one day, too. 

v. Sense of Duty

After working on the kata for the better part of the month, Zuko finally gets it on a cool afternoon. He kicks and spins and a jet of fire pours from his heel. When he lands, he doesn’t wobble. His root is solid.  _ Finally. _

When the lesson wraps up, he leaves with a grin. He needs to find Lu Ten—he’ll want to see the move. After all, it was Lu Ten’s advice that helped him get there. Whenever Zuko feels overwhelmed by his training, he tries to focus on his inner flame and draw it out from his core, the way that Lu Ten taught him. 

“Lu Ten!” Zuko runs to the courtyard. Lu Ten isn’t there, which isn’t unusual. He turns and makes his way to the training arena, but Lu Ten isn’t there either. 

“Lu Ten?” Zuko turns down another hallway. Lu Ten doesn’t have training today—Zuko saw him reading in the garden before his lesson. So, by all means, he should be around. It isn’t like Lu Ten to make himself scarce, either. Usually, his cousin is in the thick of it all. Even when he’s doing something by himself, like reading or practicing firebending, he does it in an open space, like the gardens or the courtyard. 

After checking through half the palace, Zuko decides to head to Lu Ten’s room. He’s never in there often—he only uses it to sleep—but it’s worth a shot. Zuko’s running out of ideas. 

When Zuko reaches Lu Ten’s door, he pauses. From inside the room, a few muffled voices drift out. Which is strange for many reasons, but mostly because Lu Ten would always bring his guests to a drawing-room. Why would someone be in his room? 

A wave of ice surges through Zuko’s core. He heard, once, a tale of a princess who was poisoned in her own chambers. As safe as the palace is, he knows there are people out there—rebels and robbers, spies from the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes—who would do his family harm. 

“Lu Ten!” Zuko throws open the door and rushes in without thinking. He’ll save Lu —

Lu Ten isn’t being attacked. 

Lu Ten is clad only in his pants, his shirt discarded in a heap on the floor. He has another man in his arms—Lu Ten has him backed up against the edge of his bed; the man’s hands slide low on Lu Ten’s back. Their mouths, which were locked together, pull apart. 

“ZUKO!” Lu Ten spits. He leaps away from the other man and Zuko gets a clear look at him. He’s about Lu Ten’s age, he thinks, but a few inches shorter and more broad through the shoulders and waist. Like Lu Ten, his shirt seems to be missing. Something about him looks familiar—the straight line of the man’s nose and his high cheekbones are prominent. 

“Get the fuck out!” Lu Ten’s face twists. 

A wave of flame crashes at Zuko’s toes. 

Zuko yells and leaps and runs away, not daring to look behind him. His eyes strain and he chokes back the sting of Lu Ten’s words. He barrels through the corridors without thinking. Only when he reaches the pond does Zuko sink to the dirt under the tree and stop. He pulls his knees into his chest and tries to catch his breath. 

What was Lu Ten doing? It looked like the scene in the play  _ The Tunnel of Secrets  _ he saw with his mother on Ember Island last summer, the scene when the two lovers finally found each other in the caves. 

But how could that work? Zuko doesn’t know much about romance, he’ll admit to that. All he knows came from the plays he’s seen with Mother, the stories Uncle occasionally tells, and the few romances he’s learned about in the history book (though he’s not sure if ‘political unions’ can count as romance). 

Zuko tries to work it out, but no matter which way he looks at it he doesn’t understand it—and he especially doesn’t understand why Lu Ten was so angry. Zuko pushes his chin to his knees and stares out at the pond. The turtle ducks aren’t here right now, which is just as well. Zuko doesn’t have any bread. 

“Hey, Zuko.”

Zuko tightens his grip on his legs and turns away. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Lu Ten says. He sits down in the grass next to Zuko. When Zuko peaks through the corner of his eye, he sees that Lu Ten is looking out at the pond, too. His face is pulled into a tight frown and lines of worry etch into his forehead. 

“Look—I know I’m not in a place to be asking you this, but you can’t tell anyone what you saw. Not your dad or your mom. Not Azula. You can’t say anything to any friends or staff around here. You can’t even mention it to my dad.”

Zuko doesn’t understand, but he nods once. “I’m not a snitch.”

“I know you’re not, Zuko. But this is about more than you know, okay? Some people would be very upset with me if they found out.” Lu Ten pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re too young to understand.”

“No I’m not! I’m not a baby.” Zuko pouts. Everyone is always talking like that—like he doesn’t understand a thing going on around him. “If you’re gonna ask me to keep a secret, you owe me an explanation.”

“Agni, Zuko. You’re right.” Lu Ten idly plucks free grass and rolls the blades between the pads of his fingers. “It’s just… well, it’s not easy to say. 

“But that person you saw me with back there—that’s Hisashi. He’s in basic training with me. And, um, we’re together.” Lu Ten’s face burns deep red. 

“Together? Like the lovers in the plays?”

Lu Ten nods and stares at the ground. “Like in the plays.”

“Why are you trying to hide it then!” The plays always showed the beauty and rarity of true love. How could anyone deny it when they found their other half? Zuko hopes one day he’ll be so lucky and, if he does, he would share his love with the whole world. 

Lu Ten sighs. “I’m glad you think it’s wonderful, Zuko. But there are many people who aren’t as open-minded as you. Here, it’s—“ Lu Ten’s lip trembles— “it’s not allowed for two men to marry. Or two women,” he whispers. “Hisashi and I will be in a lot of trouble if anyone finds out.”

“Oh,” Zuko says. He still doesn’t understand; not completely. Why would love not be allowed? “I won’t say anything. To anyone,” Zuko swears. “But what are you gonna do?”

“What do you mean?”

“With Hisashi. What are you gonna do to be together?”

Lu Ten deflates. His shoulders slump forward, his face falls, and his back rounds out. “You know I’m leaving for battle in two months?”

“So? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Hisashi and I are together for now. But we’ll likely be shipped off to different fronts.”

“In the plays, the lovers always swear to wait for each other. They’d wait for each other until the world ends and the sun burns out.”

Lu Ten grimaces. “The plays aren’t real, though. When I’m back from my deployment, grandfather expects me to marry. To have kids.”

“But that’s not fair!” Zuko jumps up. “If you’ve found the person you love, you shouldn’t be apart.”

“No, it’s not fair,” Lu Ten says quietly. “But it’s my duty. As Princes, we must marry well and carry on the family line.”

“But Lu Ten—“

“It’s okay, Zuko.” Lu Ten gently takes Zuko’s hand and gestures to him to set again. “One day I’ll be the Fire Lord. I’ve always known I’d have to make sacrifices for my nation.”

Zuko thinks what he would do if he were in the same place. Could he give up someone he loves for his nation? Even the thought makes him feel ill. He prays to Agni he’ll never have to make such a choice. 

“Does it make it easier?” he asks Lu Ten. “Knowing that it’s for the good of the Fire Nation?”

Lu Ten pauses. “I wish I could say yes. But, in all honesty, it hurts. It hurts so fucking much that sometimes I think my chest is shattered on the inside. I wish I never had to know that me and Hisashi’s time together has an end date,” Lu Ten’s voice cracks. 

Zuko stares at the pond. He runs his hand along the seam of his tunic, unsure what to say. 

“But I’ll do what the Fire Nation expects of me. It’s my duty. It’s  _ our  _ duty.”

To Zuko, it sounds like Lu Ten is trying to convince himself as much as anything. Zuko bites his lip and keeps that part to himself.

For a moment, they sit together, under the shade of the cherry tree. The blossoms are a few weeks gone, but the air in the garden is still fresh and fragrant. When they’re here, together, they can both pretend they don’t know what looms ahead. They simply drink in the sun and the pond and let the faint call of birds fall on their ears, as they arc through the clear blue sky miles overhead.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hey. What's this? Just me finally finishing this months later.

+i. 

Belief in the Fire Nation

Zuko knows he should be happy. It’s his twentieth birthday, after all. His friends arrived yesterday and in a few hours, they’ll probably be milling about the palace, annoying the staff, and waiting for him to make an appearance at breakfast. Uncle’s been planning the party tonight for months now. He got in from Ba Sing Se a few days earlier. Half the city is lit up with paper lanterns and—even though it’s supposed to be a surprise—he knows that there’s a firework show planned for late in the night. 

His mother is even her. It’s the first time he’s spent a birthday with her since he turned eleven. Back then, he didn’t appreciate the simple joy of having her by his side. He won’t let the moment pass him by. Not this time. 

But he can’t drop the deep pit of weight that sits in his gut. It started to grow a few weeks ago and, in the last few days, really settled in. He hasn’t slept well. His heart starts to quicken when he thinks about it and it’s getting increasingly hard to put out of his mind. And it’s even more difficult still to slap on a smile. 

Zuko is twenty. 

He’s older now than Lu Ten ever was. 

Part of him doesn’t understand how this can be true. Lu Ten was always so much older, so impossibly confident and smooth and charming. He always seemed like he had everything figured out. In comparison, Zuko feels so unsure. Every time he makes a decision, he’s not sure if it’s the right one. Words still catch in his throat at times. And he’s less sure of the world around him than ever—every time he thinks he has things figured out, the world shifts again and he realizes how little he knows. 

He admitted as much to Aang, once. 

“That’s not a bad thing, Zuko,” Aang said. “No one knows everything. Not even me. Each day we just have to keep our minds open to the possibilities and do the best we can with what we know. And if we learn something new tomorrow, we can change course.”

Aang screwed up his face and wrinkled his nose. “ _Life is a ship. We cannot control the wind; we can only change our sails,_ ” he said in his best impression of Uncle’s voice. 

Zuko chuckled. “That’s not bad. But we do have steamships now, you know.”

Still, Aang was right. 

Zuko turns the advice over in his head. Growing up, he always believed what he was told without question. He _knew_ the Fire Nation was the greatest Nation. He knew they had to show the world how great their ways were. He knew that is was an honour above all else to serve the Fire Nation. He was prepared to die for his Nation. 

And he’d been so wrong. Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose and sinks on the floor cushions in his bedroom. It still hurts to think of how horribly misguided he’d been. Those beliefs ruined the world. They caused so much pain. And he played his role in it. No matter how much he worked to undo the destruction his father and grandfathers and brought, the cloud of shame would always hang over him. Maybe it was a good thing. This way, he’d never forget. 

But as much as it hurts to think back on how wrong he’d been, at least Zuko had the chance to learn and grow. 

Lu Ten had never had that chance. 

Like any other boy his age, Lu Ten had always been fiercely devoted to his Nation. He knew that he’d be the leader one day. He believed, wholeheartedly, that the Fire Nation was right. That they _were_ the best. He believed in the cause so fervently that he’d joined up with basic the basic military training before his eighteenth birthday. He’d gone to the war front, to join his father’s siege. 

And he never came back. 

Zuko scrunches his eyes shut and presses the heels of his palms over his eyes. The sun is only barely starting to rise, but he’s exhausted and can’t sleep all at the same time. And the day ahead of him is only going to wear him down more—he’ll be expected to smile and wave and dance and eat like nothing is wrong. 

So Zuko stands up. He’s got to clear his head. Sitting and ruminating in his chambers aren’t going to do the trick. 

He slips into a simple dark outfit and angles down a jingasa to conceal the left side of his face. Zuko climbs up the side of his balcony, onto the roof, and shimmies into a gap in between two flat sections of tiling that lead into a nook beside the garden. He makes his way along the far edge of the garden the East palace wall, where an old, bricked-over gate has been hollowed out enough for one person to sneak through.

This route, the one he always takes when he wants to slip away, is technically a security risk. He should probably say something to the head of the guards. But as far as he’s aware, no one else knows about this path. More than that, in the hundred years since Sozin built the palace, no one has found the small gaps or declared them an issue in any way. Sometimes Zuko wonders if any of his family did know about the secret way in and out. Maybe they wanted privacy too. 

* * *

Zuko hikes the path to the top of the caldera. He’s glad he left when he did—by the time he’s close to the top, the sun is warming the city and his dark clothes cling to his body with sweat. Still, it’s early enough that the birds are still out, calling for each other and swooping through the air and crossing the sky in lines before diving down towards the ocean in the distance. In time, they’ll go back to their trees. His birthday is late in the summer, nearly in autumn, but the heat of the day will still be impressive enough to drive everything—both animals and people—inside until the sun sinks again. 

Zuko sits on a rocky outcrop and pulls his knees into his chest. No one is up here, now. Not many people ever do venture up this way, save teens looking for a romantic place or adventurous kids. But either way, no one is coming up here in the heat. 

Zuko looks over the city. On the other side, he can see down the pitch of the volcano to the docks and the sea. There are a few more ships in the harbour than usual. Probably merchants here to make some money off the celebrations. Maybe a few travellers. 

In time, Zuko will have to come down and meet them. Probably sooner than he’d like, considering that his assistant will want to make sure his hair is perfectly pinned up and his robes fall without so much as a single crease or wrinkle. 

In fact, they’ve probably noticed he’s not up yet. He usually rises and the crack of dawn to meditate and train. But, the way Zuko sees it, he’s gotta have a few extra hours of freedom today. The staff will probably think he’s just sleeping in, just taking a day off training. At least, he hopes that’s how it goes down. The last thing he needs is anyone raising an alarm. 

Zuko takes off his hat and combs his fingers through his hair. A light breeze blows a few strands against his cheek. He’s not used to that. His hair has never been this long before—it’s starting to fall well below his shoulders. 

He needs to get moving. He doesn’t have forever. And there’s another stop he needs to make. 

* * *

Zuko’s been by this house before. Many times. It’s along the edge of Caldera city, in a row of shops and apartments and a little schoolhouse at the end of the street. 

He’s never had the courage to knock on the door. 

But if doesn’t do it today, he’s starting to wonder if he ever will. 

So he does. He gives the wooden door a sharp wrap and stands there, awkwardly, with his hands in a bundle behind his back. He resists the urge to rock back and forward on the balls of his feet. That behaviour isn’t fitting for a Fire Lord. At least that’s what his advisors tell him. 

It takes a minute for anyone to answer. Just when Zuko starts to wonder if he should knock again, the door flies open and reveals a woman, many ten years or so older than himself, with her hair pulled into a haphazard knot and a sharp expression on her face. 

“What,” she spits out, “is so important that it couldn’t wait until a reasonable hour?” 

Zuko’s words turn to mush. He’d prepared a speech. But he hadn’t expected to be called out like this. It _is_ early. She was right about that. 

But, Zuko realizes, it seems the woman is at a similar loss for words. Her expression melted into shock. “Fire Lord Zuko,” she mumbles and swoops into a bow. “To what do we owe the honour?”

She doesn’t rise from the bow. Zuko clears his throat. “It’s, um, it’s nothing really.”

She’s still in a bow. “Please rise,” he says and brushes his neck. “I just wanted to talk to Hisashi.”

The woman nods, her knot of hair bounces against her neck. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty. Of course,” she repeats, almost to herself.

_Probably wondering what I could want with her husband,_ Zuko thinks. He hopes she knows it’s nothing bad. 

“Hisashi? Dear?” she calls up the little staircase at the back of the house. “You have an important guest.” She shoots Zuko a thin smile, even though she clearly looks ready to jump out of her skin. 

A moment later, Hisashi comes lumbering down the stairs. 

Zuko hasn’t seen him clearly in years. Only from a distance. He’s still on the shorter side, but his broad shoulders make him seem larger than he is. He’s got a beard now—he keeps it cropped close to his face. Zuko’s never seen it longer than the short bristles he wears now. He moves slow. Zuko's noticed that before, too. He never puts too much weight on his right leg. An old injury, if Zuko had to guess. Probably one from the war. 

What Zuko’s never seen before is the bundle in his arms. A baby. _His_ baby snoozes away under a swath of white blankets. The kid couldn’t be more than six months old. Not that Zuko knew much about babies—but, well, this one is so soft still. So vulnerable. 

“Fire Lord Zuko,” Hisashi says. He bows too, but not as low as his wife. He was used to being around royalty, Zuko remembers. Titles clearly never scared him off. 

“Hisashi,” Zuko says with a nod. 

“To what do we owe the honour?” 

His wife had said the same thing. Zuko supposes there are only so many ways one can politely say ‘what the fuck are you doing here’. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” Zuko says. “Perhaps in private?”

Hisashi nods, and his wife scoops the baby from his eyes. “I can make you tea,” she offers. “Or bring out juice. Or anything you’d like, Your Majesty.”

“I’m fine. Really. I won’t be staying long.”

She nods and heads toward the stairs, but not before making a brief eye-contact with her husband. 

Hisashi moves a child’s toy off the setee and gestures for Zuko. “Please, have a seat. If I knew you were coming, I would’ve cleaned up.” 

“I didn’t mean to impose.” 

“And yet you’re here.” Hisashi’s face is a mask. His dark eyes give nothing away. 

Zuko wonders if he’s thinking about the first time they met. They weren’t even properly introduced. Zuko, young and oblivious, had burst into a private moment between him and Lu Ten, completely unaware of what was happening. 

But Zuko also knows that Hisashi knows Ozai. And what he did after Lu Ten’s death. And impressions aren’t always so easily changed—there are still rumours that drift through town that claim Zuko tricked Aang into taking down Ozai because he was power-hungry. Zuko pretends he doesn’t hear these stories. And, one day, they might go away. 

“I’ve meant to come here for a while,” Zuko admits. He swallows, even though his throat is dry. “I never could really find the courage. 

“But I know you meant a lot to Lu Ten. And I’m sure he meant a lot to you too. And what happened—it’s not fair. It never should have happened.” 

Hisashi doesn’t meet Zuko’s gaze. He turns his head slightly and, from where Zuko’s sitting, his eyes seem glassy. A little damp. 

“I’m changing the law,” Zuko says quietly. “It never should have been made in the first place. And it’s time we, as a nation, start moving out of our dark past.

“So I’m changing things. I wanted to, right from the start, but change is a slow game. It’s finally going through, though. I’ll be announcing it in the next few days.” Zuko bundles his hands in his lap, his heart pounding away. He’d practiced those words so many times. But somehow they still didn’t sound quite right. “I wanted you to be the first to know.”

“Thank you,” Hisashi says quietly. He shakes his head. “But this doesn’t change anything. I’m married to Midori. I love her.”

“I know you do,” Zuko says. And he really does. He’s seen them walking through the city before. Laughing together. Sipping tea on the patio of a restaurant. “Everyone deserves love like that.” _Lu Ten deserved love like that. He deserved to walk hand in hand with someone he loved. He deserved strolls in the park and lunch in restaurants and dances at banquets._

Hisashi sighs. “I agree. Of course, I agree. But change doesn’t work like that. You can change the laws all you want, but the attitudes of the folks around here aren’t going to change.”

“I would’ve said the same thing, once. But look how much has changed since the war. It’s not going to be easy. I won’t pretend it will be. But it _is_ possible. And that’s all we need.”

Hisashi closes his eyes. “I wish you luck, Fire Lord.”

Zuko stands and nods. He can understand a dismissal. It’s clear that Hisashi doesn’t want to be having this conversation and Zuko’s not about to push it. 

“You made him happy,” Zuko says. “And I want to thank you for that. I hope you can say the same.” He turns to leave. 

Behind him, Hisashi says, no louder than a whisper: “he did.”

* * *

When Zuko reaches the palace, he’s worn and exhausted, but he feels lighter too. He sneaks in the same way he left. 

For a moment, he debates slipping into bed and trying to catch an hour of sleep. But it’s late morning already. 

And, sure enough, a knock sounds at his door before he can even rest his head for a minute. 

“Fire Lord Zuko!” says Tengo, his assistant. In his arms is a tray filled with a breakfast Zuko’’s never been happier to see. “We were wondering if you were awake. You’re not usually one to sleep in.”

Zuko chuckles. “I guess I’m not.” 

Zuko moves over to the table and sits in front of where Tengo sets the tray. He pops a grape in his mouth. “Hey, Tengo?”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“How long do I have before I need to be anywhere?”

Tengo frowns. “A few hours, Your Majesty, but that doesn’t account for the time it’ll take to get you, uh, ready for tonight.”

Zuko nods and breaks off a small piece of his bread. “Enough time for Uncle to come for tea?”

Tengo’s terse expression softens. “I’m sure we can make it work.”

Good. Zuko sighs and leans back in his chair. It’s been too long since he’s had time with Uncle, just the two of them. 

Things are changing in the nation. Zuko can feel it. And, with the changes, Zuko can’t help thinking of another piece of advice Aang had given him once: _the greatest illusion of this world is the illusion of separation._

Lu Ten might be gone. But his memory will live on. And the ones we love, Zuko thinks, never really leave. 

Because, when the law changes, Zuko will be thinking of Lu Ten. And he’ll be alive, in some way, in this better and brighter future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the Beach at Night Alone  
> By Walt Whitman
> 
> On the beach at night alone,  
> As the old mother sways her to and fro singing her husky song,  
> As I watch the bright stars shining, I think a thought of the clef of the universes and of the future.
> 
> A vast similitude interlocks all,  
> All spheres, grown, ungrown, small, large, suns, moons, planets,  
> All distances of place however wide,  
> All distances of time, all inanimate forms,  
> All souls, all living bodies though they be ever so different, or in different worlds,  
> All gaseous, watery, vegetable, mineral processes, the fishes, the brutes,  
> All nations, colors, barbarisms, civilizations, languages,  
> All identities that have existed or may exist on this globe, or any globe,  
> All lives and deaths, all of the past, present, future,  
> This vast similitude spans them, and always has spann’d,  
> And shall forever span them and compactly hold and enclose them.


End file.
